I've Come From the Past to Say I'm Proud
by SilenceoftheHetalians
Summary: England, tired of feeling sick on America's birthday decides to go back in time to America's colonial days. But England goes back too far. Follow the journey of England as he tags along with the lost Roanoke settlers from 1588 to 1607 as they struggle to survive with the Croatoans. Disney's Pocahontas and John Smith towards the end. Mainly England x Native America.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Disney's Pocahontas.**

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**Chapter 1: England's Sickness**

England was in another world meeting. It was a few days until that dreadful holiday America called his birthday. America couldn't shut up about it during his time to speak, they were...

Where was the meeting held again? He nudged France who was next to him. "France where are we?" France who was gazing at Italy, the dirty pervert had sort of a not so secret crush on the idiotic Italian, blinked shifting his gaze to him. He removed his hand from his chin, rolling his eyes. "Really Angleterre he was in your commonwealth longer that he was in mine, you should remember him more than I do. But alas I will give you a pass for a certain holiday is approaching."

Everyone knew about England's sickness around America's Independence Day except for the idiot himself.

"On with it frog!" England growled, really was it that hard to give him a simple one word answer? "Ontario, Canada you former delinquent. Now leave me to my musings." France waved him off, to continue admiring the sleeping beauty that was Italy.

England was not ashamed to admit to himself that Italy was attractive, many women of course thought the same. It was quite sad that the Italian who was not a homosexual in the slightest had so many gay admirers. There was Germany whom he was close to in friendship, France and even Prussia the ex-nation whom held a candle for him. Spain longed for Italy long ago to complete his colonized Italian set and sometimes reminisced on what could have been.

England shook his head, feeling immediately dizzy afterwards. Now was not the time to think about colonies. America's loud declaration already brought on a stomach ache, he didn't want to make it worse.

"And dudes that is why we should have a giant hero end starvation. And don't forget my awesome par-tay in three days. Feel free to give me gifts all week long! God bless America!" America screamed into the microphone at the end of his presentation.

England felt a burning in his chest, he tried to hold in the cough, he didn't need any attention on himself. But he couldn't hold it in, hacking and coughing loud enough for the rest of the world to hear. "Yo, old man you hacking up a lung over there?" America smirked, not really able to take seriousness at face value.

"England would you like to go home early?" Germany said to him, he knew what was happening. "Or perhaps you would like some tea?" Japan cut in. "I have a lozenge!" Finland cut in. "I could send you my blessings!" Spain said, They were useless as Romano warned all of them during his pasta shortage.

"Dude, Britain just go home so you can get better for my par-tay. We don't need your icky germs infecting the hero now do we?" England glared at America, he'd managed to make it about himself yet again. "I'm sorry everyone, I'll go. I'll be well next week."

"Wait! Britain! You'll come right? You'll have less germs then, this time?" England looked back at him, he was already at the door.

It'd been 150 years since he'd had the sickness; he stopped coming to America's Independence Day parties and gatherings after 1976. He'd stopped giving him gifts then too. After 50 years America noticed? He'd noticed he stopped coming?

"No I won't. I never had fun at your stupid parties anyway." He said, blood fell from his lips. He wiped it away quickly. He could see the sadness in America's eyes, but it was gone as fast as it came. "More cake for me! Go on and read your boring books old man." He stuck his tongue out at him.

England straightened up and proudly walked out of the meeting room. Once outside he frowned. Oh his pride be the end of him. He could have agreed, went to the party miserable to appease the youth. He wanted him there, to put behind their squabbles for one night, for England to say "I'm proud of what you've become."

He knew that's what America wanted to hear after his 200th year, but England could not fulfill his wishes. He was not proud, he was still bitter and angry. He tried to put up a front to generally be happy for him, but America started his ruin. Times have changed but England has the mindset of his Old World power ways. He was jealous that America was the sole world power and his own empire was a thing of the past.

England fumed in the Uber he'd called, C-Columbia? Cuba?Canadia? No, Canada hopped onto the Uber franchise with its success in America. England was pretty sure the poor young woman who was driving him to his hotel thought he was going to burst a vessel. She said something but he didn't catch it all.

"What?" He snapped. She squeaked in fear. "E-eh I asked did you want t-to take a detour." "Why would I want to do that?" He questioned, his voice raising, sounding a bit more commanding and forceful than he intended. "T-there's a-a t-train sir." She trembled, gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. England cleared his throat. "Yes if you would be so kind." He could see the woman visibly relax. When she pulled up to his hotel, he would give her a $20 tip, his anger was unwarranted. He looked at her with an apologetic smile, making sure she met his green eyes: arguably his best feature. He'd kissed her hand slipping the twenty into it. T-thank you." She said, blush dusted her cheeks. She pushed up her round glasses and tore her eyes away before driving off.

England smirked, if he really wanted to he could have courted that woman. But he wasn't a pervert, like a certain French frog.

He turned on the telly, seeing announcements for Canada day. He'd book a flight back to London for tomorrow and spend his week shutting out anything that had to do with Independence Day like he's done in the past. Which usually meant an all day Dr. Who binge fest on Independence Day huddled up in blankets.

His body knew when the day was automatically and he'd wake up feeling like he'd been hit by a truck, a 10 ton American pick up truck with a Texas USA license plate painted with Stars and Stripes, playing The Star Spangled Banner from its speakers.

That one specifically.

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**A/N: This story takes place in the not so distant future of 2026 because I thought America being 250 is less awkward than 243. The future isn't much different from the present and isn't really important to the plot.**

**Inspiration taken from Once Upon a Disney-Talia by Nyapoop14 and the time traveling pocket watch from New Horizons by Shatterdoll**

**I'd recommend giving both of them a read because they're good stories**

**Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading! Criticism welcome.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Disney's Pocahontas or Hetalia, rights go to the creators of both works.**

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**Chapter 2: America's Problem**

England survived, he'd actually survived the day, through all of the prank calls from intoxicated countries at America's party. It was officially July 5th. He woke up still feeling dizzy, but he hadn't had the urge to throw up yet. England got ready for the day, letting water wash over himself in the shower before fixing himself a nice cuppa. He currently sat at his kitchen table, sipping tea, and munching on a piece of bacon while reading the newspaper.

_Ding dong. _

The doorbell rang. He wasn't expecting any visitors today. America never really called before showing up but he knew that today would be the only exception. He'd be recovering from a hangover, and wouldn't even think about hopping across the pond to see him. Honestly why would he? This whole holiday celebrated being away from him. So he'd assumed it was a salesmen, they'd leave him alone if he didn't answer the door.

_Ding Dong. _

Then he felt it, the silvery metallic taste of blood in his mouth. His chest constricted, and he hacked up a significant amount of blood onto the newspaper. He faced the door. The ringing turned to pounding. England rose, it was him. That idiot actually came to see him. He checked his watch, 10:35 am. Bloody hell he'd have to get up at least at 3 to get here. Did he sleep?

England opened the door to America, he was sloshed which explains the lack of sleep. "Bloody hell America why are you here?" "You missed the party duuudde." His cheeks were flushed red. "Right like I told you I would." "I didn't want you to miss the part-tay so I brought it to youuu!" America blew into one of those noise makers and held up a soggy paper bag.

"What is that?" England said, scrunching his face up in disgust and pointing to the bag. "Caaaake my mannn." "Hmm delightful. Now come on and sleep in one of my guest rooms." He said taking the bag and guiding him into the house. "Nuuuu the part-tayyyy you… gotta…" He drifted off, his eyes getting heavy.

England sighed, wrapping an arm around America's waist, letting him lean his body weight against him. "America do you ever think things through?" "Britainnnn are you disappointedddd in me?" America all but pouted. "I think you make rash decisions yes." They'd reached the bedroom and he guided America to lay down on his side. England coughed. "R-rest up ole chap."

America woke up with a splitting headache at around midday. England was in the living room doing some embroidery. America shuffled into the living room holding a cuppa, gently sipping it to alleviate his headache. "Ah I see you've woken up." He said. America sat across from him setting his cup on the coffee table in front of them. "Sorry about coming here like that." "I don't expect anything less from you anymore. You're very impulsive, but I guess that's the drive of youth."

"Mmhmm. But…" America started off, England knew that this was one of the few moments that America was going to be serious with him. It was a rarity in itself, something must be bothering him. "Why didn't you come?" He asked. "I'm not one for parties America, and I get sick around this time you know." England answered, hoping he wouldn't probe further.

"But you've come before. I-I was hoping you'd be there this time." America looked solomemly at his tea cup. "A-ah well, to put it frankly, America your birthday is celebrating your independence from me. Do I really need to be there? I'd assumed it wouldn't matter, we don't really hit it off that well anyway." England coughed up some blood, grabbing a handkerchief.

America looked at him then, he could never resist those sky blue eyes even when he was a little colony. "I thought we were past that Britain. I'm 250; I thought you'd start seeing me as an adult by now. What more can I do?" It wasn't really a question. "It matters that much what I think!?" He yelled, angered that America was putting so much pressure on him. It's hard; he's not ready to let America go in a metaphorical sense yet. He was still angry that he separated from him physically, now he wanted him to pass him the baton! Wanted a pat on the back? "Come on! Spain treats Romano like an adult! Hungry and Austria let Italy go; hell even you and Canada are on good terms and he was under France a significant amount of the time!"

"You want to know what you can do?" England stared at him, hard. America waited, there was a pause.

"_Nothing_, you little insolent brat! You'll always be a disgrace to me! I'll never see you as an adult!"

"Drop dead Britain!" America stared right back, blue eyes fierce.

"You never should've won." He knew he'd struck a nerve with that one.

America grit his teeth reeling back and landing a punch straight to England's jaw. England stumbled back. "Do you really want to know why I care about your opinion you stodgy old man? You were there when she wasn't."

With that America stormed out of his house, slamming the door. His books fell from the shelves. England rubbed his jaw, America knew how to punch, he didn't break it thankfully. To the frozen peas he goes.

England rolls his eyes, America the impulsive child acting out when things don't go his way.

He'd mentioned her… England tried to push her out of his memory. England was just a young explorer then, just out of his pirating phase, looking for gold. He heard that Spain had struck gold and wanted some for himself too. It was greed that caused her to disappear… the smallpox played a large part too, but mostly greed. America remembers her more than he does, but it struck him that America values him to that degree. Powhatan Tribe, whom he'd called Native America at the time unknowing of the many tribal nations in America, was America's predecessor.

England thought before snapping his fingers. He'd revisit America as a colony, he was much more fond of him then. Just to observe, he knew time travel was murky, he didn't want to upset the balance of Space Time or anything like that. Maybe he'd learn more about Powhatan Tribe, he'd never actually gotten a chance to know her, prejudice of the time and such. The side of England, hungry for knowledge and exploration drove him. No one would be looking for him anyway and it beat staying here being sick until Independence Day faded from the minds of the masses.

He discarded America's unfinished tea and went into his basement.

England searched his old trunk of memorabilia, things he's kept over the years. He knew he had to have had a pocket watch in there somewhere. He'd gotten one in the late 1600's as Charles II made it fashionable by then. He reached around feeling for it, when he found the thing it was worn and had a giant crack across the glass cover of its face. England smiled, it was the perfect vessel to impose magic upon.

England flipped through his book of spells, looking for time travel, landing on a page with ancient text. He scanned over the contents, seemed easy enough.

Closing the book, England went to pack a bag. He put on an old pair of clothes from the 1600's, the one he'd worn when he found America in the field. He couldn't bring himself to get rid of it even when he declared independence. He threw in a journal, as all great explorers did. He threw in a compass and finally the watch.

He looked through his shelves, finding black hair dye. He wanted his eyebrows to match his hair one day but then thought it would look ridiculous so he never wore it.

As for the blue contacts, France bought him a pair, he said blue eyes were in, and that he'd get more attention with them. England at the time gave Francis a black eye for saying something so stupid. He just wanted to make himself feel better because he had those stupid cobalt eyes and women took notice of him whenever they went out. England would never tell France that he thought French women were attractive and was jealous they would approach him at bars. England kept them though, one day if he was desperate he'd wear them.

Today was apparently that day, he didn't want America or himself to recognise him. Once packed and ready to go, he went back to the basement.

He read the incantation, but frowned seeing nothing happen. Wasn't the watch supposed to tick or glow or something. He shook it, grumbling at the fact that the spell didn't work. He poked its face, jamming his index finger onto the glass. Swiping across the crack to clear some dust, he cut his finger. "Bugger." England grumbled as a blot of red formed and dripped onto the clock face. He gasped as the blood seeped into the crack, causing it to glow a deep red colour. The clock hands started spinning counter clockwise, rapidly.

"Brilliant!"

The world around him spun in a blur before he was surrounded in darkness.

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**A/N: I hope England isn't too OOC, being extremely sore about the American Revolution.**

**I hope you all enjoy the story!**

**Thank you for reading. Criticism welcome.**


	3. Chapter 3: Roanoke's Settlers

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or Disney's Pocahontas, rights go to their creators. I just own the settlers I made up.**

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**Chapter 3: Roanoke's settlers**

"Oi!" England felt a jab to his chest, blinking his eyes open. He was staring into the brown eyes and haggard face of a man. The man leaned back, and England leaned up on his elbow. "Bloody hell, where am I–oof." England grunted as the redhead pushed him back down with a piece of a splintered plank. "I'll be asking the questions mate! Who the hell are you and how'd you get out here?" He looked to the sky above, it was midday considering how high the sun was in the sky.

He was in a clearing, surrounded by trees. A few Englishmen peered from behind the man who was holding a plank to his neck.

"I-I'm um Ar-uh Alfred Jones." Shite America existed in this time period right? Damn how was he going to explain their shared names?

The Englishman scratched his head, "Alright Alfred Jones tell us how you ended up out here? The last boat from England was in 1585 and John White left on it. We didn't see you when we started on the voyage." 1585! He went back too far! America didn't even exist yet,... that takes care of the name problem.

"Bernard, he could be part of the cargo ship John White was spossed to bring back." said another Englishman with brown hair and green eyes. He was tall and lean. Contrast made prominent by Bernard's short height and stock build. "Alexander, I didn't see no cargo ship pull up to the shores." Bernard said turning his attention away from England to the man named Alexander.

"I was a stowaway! I snuck onto your boat and have been hiding out here ever since we landed ashore. But it looks like you've found me." England said, slightly pissed off, trying to sell his lie.

The two men raise their eyebrows. "You've been living out here for three years mate? What about the Indians? Where's ya quarters?" Alexander asked him.

"I've been sleeping in the trees, gathering berries and drinking me own piss. I'm not afraid of those savages. I've wrestled bears for honey, and done just fine." England might have watched a bit too much of Bear Grylls with America and got a bit carried away.

The group of men were silent before a barking laugh erupted from behind Bernard and Alexander.

A big burly man with dark raven colored hair and blue eyes walked up to them then. "That is the funniest thing I've heard all day. A little twig like you surviving out here." He turns to Bernard, "C'mon he's harmless, stop interrogating him." Bernard lowers his plank grumbling unknown words at the man.

"I'm sorry about them. Nice to meet you Alfred, I'm Cuthbert. It's just us out here, and we're currently going through a shortage; so we're all a little on edge." Cuthbert says holding out his hand. England happily grasped it, knowing the struggle these men would have to go through.

"It's alright chap, no harm done. Am I welcome back to your village?" He asked.

Cuthbert clasped him on the back, "Of course mate, we don't have much though." It was alright, England couldn't starve, he'd just be eternally hungry until he got some food. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, slowly starving, but never feeling the sweet release of death.

The four men walked back into their camp area, a young man about 18 or so ran up to them. "Did you guys find anything?" He asked. Bernard shook his head. "Nothing out there but trees, no fruit in sight."

"Who's this?" The young man asked, pointing at England. He didn't look friendly either. He looked angry that he wasn't food.

"Daniel, this is Alfred. We found him living in the woods." England gave the lad a small friendly wave.

"How come you didn't ask him where his food was?" Daniel looked at him skeptically with his dark brown eyes. He had light blond hair, that bounced as he whipped his head around to face Bernard again. "Daniel, he didn't have any on him. We checked." Bernard said. They'd checked him? How long was he out?

"Well take him back. We don't have enough as it is!" Daniel yelled at him.

"Now lad, no need to get hostel." Cuthbert went over to him, placing both his hands on the boy's shoulders.

"Get the fuck off me!" Daniel shrugged out of his hold. He ran up to him. "Go back to where you came from! We can't feed anymore people! We're not a goddamn charity!" Daniel shoved him, and he stumbled into Alexander.

England regained his bearings. He was an irritable teenager once. He grabbed Daniel's ear, "Listen here you little brat. I'm here to help. I know the situation is bad but pushing me away isn't going to make it any better." Daniel smacked his hand away. "I'll go alert your wives you're back." He walked off.

"What is his problem?" He asked. "His mother starved to death last month. She'd been giving him her rations without his knowledge. She was all the family he had." Cuthbert told him solemnly.

"Well we better be showin ya, your quarters yeah?" Alexander said walking up to them and throwing his arm around him. England suddenly remembered how dirty they all were in this era, he tried not to wrinkle his nose in disgust. "Yes, take Alfred to Daniel's, the lad is living all by himself now." Cuthbert told Alexander. "I don't think that's a good idea." England said.

"Nonsense! The lad needs direction, you could mentor him!" Cuthbert continued. "What makes you think I like taking care of children?" England said, scoffing at the guise the other Englishman was trying to pull on him.

"Well we could just throw you back into the wild where you came from. Sacrifice you to the Indians as a peace offering." Bernard pipped in. England was starting not to like him.

"Fine, I'll try to turn the little brat around." "Great!" Cuthbert clasped him on the back a bit too forcefully and soon they were on their way to a little wooden cottage.

"You'll have a bit of quiet before Daniel comes back." Alexander said, handing him a key. "I've got to go to the misses, get yourself settled in." Alexander said before running off towards the more populous part of their village.

He wondered why Daniel and his mother lived on the outskirts. He was alone, so he took out his watch. He could just travel back to the present now. America wasn't even here so why did he need to stay?

He swiped his finger on the glass again to cut himself. But this time the stopwatch didn't glow. "What the hell is wrong with this thing?" He shook the watch, before sighing. He opened his spell book again,

_Blood needed from someone in the current time period to travel to the future. _

What kind of idiotic rule was that?

He wasn't going to go around attacking his own men so they could bleed into a watch; it wasn't that serious.

England sighed; he guessed he was stuck here until someone died.

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**A/N: Here are our main cast of men. If you can't remember their names, I chose one for each letter of the alphabet**, **A**lexander **B**ernard **C**uthbert **D**aniel. **I don't know if that helps.**

**This will be a bit more morbid until the Croatoan's show up, desperate times call for desperate measures.**


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